The whisper barely stirred the air as full lips resumed their course, traversed across a heavily muscled chest. A pink tongue flickered out to lick along the edges of a crucifix, nestled within the hollow of a sweat-damp throat. Long, bejeweled fingers brushed over a closely shorn head, caressed high cheekbones, a smooth jaw. "And what delicious sin you are committing, my child." Long-lashed brown eyes lifted, twinkled with dark amusement as slender fingers spiderwalked a familiar path down a lightly-furred stomach. "What else can I do for His Eminence?" A small smile, a soft kiss that tasted of incense and corruption. "Oh, what you're doing is most satisfactory." "I love doing the Lord's work..."
"Bugger this," Karl muttered, but obediently turned, loosening his belt and unzipping his slacks before bracing his hands on the desk. He felt Professor Bean push the slacks down to his ankles, then his boxers. He shivered when the slight breeze hit his bare buttocks, but made no other move. A moment later, two well-oiled fingers pushed inside him and the heat of Professor Bean's body pressed against his back, hot breath against his ear. "Well?" Karl gasped and pushed, knuckles white as he held onto the desk for dear life. "I'm...sorry..." "I don't think you mean it." The fingers disappeared and the hard length of Professor Bean's cock took its place as Karl grunted, shifted to better accommodate the heated invasion. Detention was Karl's favorite part of the day.
He watched, with a sort of idle detachment, as the blurry figure at the other end of the docks walked slowly into focus. Sandy-blond strands whipped across an angular face, and a quick glance down showed the other man was dressed much as Sean himself, in jeans, work boots and a t-shirt. The other man spoke first, in a soft, measured voice. "Guy up at the bar said you rented your boat out for tours." "Ayuh, I do," Sean nodded, squinting in a futile attempt to keep the sweat from getting in his eyes. "Cash only." A quick grin appeared, and twin dimples with it. "Sounds shady." Sean acknowledged the barb with a sardonic nod. "I reckon you'd know." "That I would." They met each other halfway, the kiss messy, hard. "Miss me?" "Get in the goddamn boat, Vig."
He tried to mask his scowl as he made his way to the locker room, gym bag slung carelessly over a shoulder. His opponent for the 'match' had already beaten him there. "Hey!" A bright smile lit up a friendly face as the guy stood. And stood. "I'm Ben." "Sean." He reluctantly shook the offered, meaty hand, his own disappearing into the grip. Shaggy hair fell across a wide forehead. "You ready for this?" "Not really." "Yeah, me neither." Ben sat on one of the benches and watched as Sean stashed his gear. "Seems a bit silly if you ask me." "It's charity." Sean snagged his cleats from his bag and turned. "What position do you play again?" "Quarterback. For the Pittsburgh Steelers." Quarterback. Whatever that meant. This was going to be a long day, Sean thought to himself, and tightened his laces.
A pair of combat boots filled Daniel's vision and he swore silently, even as he met the unamused gaze of his drill sergeant. "Was that whining I heard, Private Craig?" Sergeant Bean asked, lips pulled into a sneer. Daniel's shoulders snapped back, and his chin lifted as his feet automatically came apart in parade rest. "No, sir." "Good." Steely green eyes from beneath a desert camouflage boonie bored into Daniel's. "Because one thing I do not tolerate is pussy-ass whining in my company, are we clear?" "Crystal, sir."
"Sean!" Mr. Bloom rose from his desk, warm smile already in place. But then, Mr. Bloom was ever a quick one with the smiles. "I'm glad you could meet me." He gestured Sean to sit in the chair next to his. His smile never wavered as they both settled into their seats. "How long've you been working for me now?" Sean did a quick mental calculation, and tried not to let his gaze drop to Mr. Bloom's lips. "Six months, sir." "You like it?" Mr. Bloom leaned forward. Sean caught a faint whiff of Lagerfeld, and his groin tightened a little in response. "Pottering around in the dirt, I mean?" "Yessir. Although I wouldn't call it pottering," he replied, choosing his words with care. Those warm eyes softened even further. "I meant no disrespect." "None taken, sir." Mr. Bloom shook his head sadly. "Orlando, Sean, how many times do I need to tell you?" "Until you're no longer my employer. Sir." "Fair enough. You're fired." Sean blinked. "Excuse me?" Orlando leaned back in his chair, looking very pleased with himself. "Don't worry, I'll provide you with a very generous severance package. And a glowing reference." "I don't understand," Sean frowned. He'd thought he was doing an excellent job. That Mr. Bloom liked him. When Mr. Bloom shrugged, the movement was casually elegant. "Well, I have this rule about asking out my employees and you have this rule about calling employers by their name, so, if I fire you, both of our problems are solved." Sean opened his mouth to reply. Closed it. And sat for a moment in silence, letting the full import of what Mr. Bloom was saying to him sink in. "I wasn't aware you wanted to ask me out," he finally replied, slowly. "Well, now you are," came the soft, almost nervous response. "So...will you? Go out with me?" "Alright." And Sean finally smiled himself. "Orlando." "Much better." When Orlando leaned forward again, Sean met him halfway. "You think if I rehired you, we could make up a few new rules?" Orlando asked, and slid his hand onto Sean's. Sean curled his fingers over Orlando's and nodded. "I think that'd suit me just fine."
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